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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298015">Nevermore</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISeeFire/pseuds/ISeeFire'>ISeeFire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins, Halloween Writing Challenge, Happy Ending, Modern AU, Romance, Scary, Soulmarks, Stalking, Supernatural - Freeform, Vampires, Werewolves, always a girl bilbo, horror story, horror tropes/cliches, pscyhological horror</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:54:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,911</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISeeFire/pseuds/ISeeFire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilba Baggins is on the run from a stalker who’s supposed to be dead. He hunts her from city to city in an exhausting cat and mouse chase whose ending can only ever be tragic.</p><p>Or at least that’s what she’d thought before she moved to Erebor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins/Fíli, Female Bilbo/Fili</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>256</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>429</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is for a Halloween challenge put on by @sdavid09</p><p>The challenge was to create a story inspired by a horror movie, and a song and I chose the movie “Halloween” which, at its heart, is a story about a woman having a psycho stalker, and the song “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga. The month got away from me so I’m still writing it, but it'll probably be about four or five chapters or thereabouts so not super long. </p><p>Warnings: Intense Horror Elements (honestly not sure how to explain it other than that. It’s nothing that I graphically detail or anything, but it does get pretty intense at times so I wanted to put a warning for that) If you have read my writing then you probably have a pretty good idea of how far I’ll go, and also that I always provide a guaranteed happy ending. SO, you can rest assured that, no matter how scary or intense it gets, it’s going to be all right in the end for the protagonist. Anyhoo, just be aware, this is for a Halloween Challenge, and is meant to be scary and IS scary. If you are not a person who can handle horror (and that’s perfectly fine, I’m actually not a person who can handle horror so I literally just scared myself writing a story :P) then this may not be the story for you. Fortunately, I have PLENTY of other stories you can read with no horror elements at all so I will shamelessly plug them and invite you to check them out! :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“There, now was that so bad?”</p><p>Bilba gave Priscilla a look that suggested her best friend had taken leave of her senses, and gestured outside the car’s window. “You’re joking, right?”</p><p>As if summoned, a large group of children rushed across the street, breaking around the car like waves around a rock as they rushed from house to house in search of candy. </p><p>Priscilla laughed and shut the car off. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”</p><p>“I doubt it,” Bilba muttered. She’d only had her license a few months, and was still getting comfortable driving at night. She’d driven them both to the movies, when the sun was still nice and up, but had refused to drive anywhere in the midst of thousands of children running about. </p><p>Priscilla frowned. “Shoot, I just realized.” She gave Bilba an apologetic grin. “I drove to my house instead of yours.”</p><p>She didn’t look sorry, Bilba thought crossly. </p><p>“I guess,” Priscilla said innocently, drawing out the word, “you’ll have to drive the rest of the way yourself.”</p><p>Bilba gave her a flat look and then, without breaking eye contact, grabbed her purse and coat and got out of the car. </p><p>Immediately, she was assailed by the shrieks of children dressed in bright costumes as dozens of tiny bodies dashed from house to house in search of sugary treats to fill plastic buckets and pillowcases. A crisp autumn air wrapped around her and she set her purse on the car’s roof to pull her coat on. </p><p>Priscilla scrambled out of the car, dodging a handful of ghosts and ghouls and their harried parents. “Wait, what are you doing?”</p><p>Bilba pulled the strap of her purse over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow at her friend. “What does it look like? Walking home.”</p><p>“You can’t walk home,” Priscilla said, rounding the car to where Bilba stood on the sidewalk. “It’s dark!”</p><p>Bilba turned in an exaggerated circle to take in the streetlights and the veritable hoard of trick-or-treaters and their parents. “It’s like two blocks. I think I’ll be fine.”</p><p>Priscilla scowled. “I’ll walk with you then.” She crossed her arms triumphantly, clearly convinced Bilba would now capitulate and agree to drive. </p><p>Instead, Bilba merely smiled. “How will you get home?”</p><p>Priscilla rolled her eyes. “I’ll wal---” she trailed off, realizing her mistake, but it was too late. Bilba grinned. </p><p>“Oh, so you <em>don’t</em> think it’s too dangerous to walk.” She waved at her friend and took a few steps away, quickly before Priscilla could come up with another argument. “I’ll come pick up my car tomorrow.”</p><p>Priscilla’s mouth opened and closed as she tried to find a way out of the box she’d neatly trapped herself into. Finally, she scowled and said, “call me when you get home, all right?”</p><p>“I will!” Bilba gave a final wave as she headed toward her home. She reached the corner and looked over her shoulder to see Priscilla standing near her front gate, watching to make sure she didn’t get kidnapped in public. Bilba waved and the other girl returned the gesture before raising her phone and pointing to the screen. Bilba gave an exaggerated nod to show she understood and then rounded the corner. Priscilla worried too much. The streets were overflowing with people trick-or-treating or driving to and from parties. It was probably the safest night of the entire year. </p><p>As the thought passed through her mind, it occurred to her that the street she’d just confidently strode onto was decidedly darker than the one she’d just left. Unease settled over her and she hesitated. Maybe she should double back and take another route? There was a house a block or two away that threw a Halloween party every year and she knew it’d be teeming with people. </p><p>She looked back, for just a second, and then shook her head. Going that route would double the amount of time it would take her to get home, and for what? Because a street she’d been on a thousand times was a little dark? She was letting Priscilla’s paranoia get to her. It wasn’t <em>that</em> dark, and it wasn’t entirely empty either. Several small group were running between houses, bags and pails in hand. </p><p> It was fine. </p><p>She’d be fine. </p><p>It was like a block. </p><p>Nothing bad could happen in a block. </p><p>Bilba squared her shoulders and started walking again, this time with what she hoped was a particularly confident air. Priscilla always insisted that no one messed with you if you acted like you knew what you were doing. The other girl was nineteen, three whole years older than Bilba, and that much closer to official adulthood. If she said something was so, then it was so. </p><p>Unless it involved convincing Bilba to drive in the dark on Halloween night. Then she was simply being...overconfident. </p><p>It was a fine line. </p><p>An especially cold gust of wind hit her, freezing her nylon clad legs and whipping her skirt about her thighs. Priscialla had invited a couple of her college guy friends to come along, not as an official double date but just a “meet and greet” as she’d described it. Bilba had gone along with it, but decided almost immediately she was nowhere near ready for that sort of thing again.</p><p>She shivered, for reasons more than just the cold, and paused to zip her jacket all the way up to her chin. She adjusted the strap of her purse as it threatened to slide off her arm, and wrapped her arms around herself in a futile effort to add an extra modicum of warmth. </p><p>Perhaps she should have accepted Priscilla’s offer of a ride after all. She could have just let the other girl keep the car until the morning, or asked one of her parents for help.  </p><p>“Way to think of practical solutions now,” she grumbled to herself. </p><p>Something niggled in the back of her mind, a subtle but insistent feeling like some sixth sense tapping on the door of her consciousness. Bilba’s footsteps slowed until she’d come to a complete stop on the sidewalk. While she’d been lost in her thoughts the street had mostly emptied. Even as she watched, the last group vanished around the corner, laughter and shrieks of excitement fading as quickly as they did. </p><p>Bilba swallowed down a dry throat as, around her, the now silent street seemed to grow darker, and shifted from a familiar, and comforting place to one utterly alien and unknown. </p><p>Don’t be ridiculous, she tried to convince herself. It was still the same street, the one she’d walked down more times than she could count, on her way to school with Priscilla or the park or some other grand adventure. The only difference now was that it was dark whereas, before, she’d always walked it in the bright light of day. </p><p>She’d never realized before just what a difference the dark could make. </p><p>She started moving again, faster this time, short heels clicking on the sidewalk as if to alert the shadows to her passing. It was just a street, but the sooner she was off it the better. She wanted to be in her bedroom, light and warmth surrounding her and walls holding back the night. She’d change as soon as she got in, she decided. Put on her most comfortable pajamas and the thick robe she’d just gotten for her sweet sixteen. Maybe she’d make herself a mug of hot chocolate, and then go and curl up in her bed with a good book.  </p><p>The feeling returned. </p><p>It was stronger this time, more aggressive as if something primal inside of her was trying to warn her. Screaming at her in a language she couldn’t speak, but still understood. </p><p>Something was wrong, and it was more than her simply being out on a cold and lonely night. </p><p>She focused, trying to understand what it was that was causing her heart to suddenly beat so fast in her chest. </p><p>And then she heard it. As her feet hit the pavement there was the slightest echo, the barest hint of a footstep just out of sync with her own. </p><p>As if someone were walking behind her, and taking care to <em>almost </em>match her steps. </p><p>Her stomach clenched, and a sick feeling washed over her. </p><p>“Don’t be stupid,” she whispered under her breath. It was Halloween. Of course there was someone behind her. She tensed and then, before she could talk herself out of it, whirled around. </p><p>The street was empty, nothing but moonlight and fallen leaves skittering across the street in the cold October breeze.  </p><p>“Hello?” Bilba called. Mentally, she kicked herself. The very last thing she wanted was for someone to answer, so why in the world was she inviting a response?</p><p>The street stayed silent. </p><p>Slowly, Bilba’s heart rate began to slow and her breathing evened. This was all Priscilla’s fault. She’d acted all paranoid, and now Bilba was letting her imagination run away with her. Thinking she heard footsteps and whatnot when, in reality, it had just been her mind playing tricks on her. </p><p>She let out a small laugh at her own foolishness, spun back around, and promptly screamed. </p><p>There was a person standing behind her, less than a foot away. He wore a basic white sheet with black circles painted on for the eyes, and holes cut out for the sleeves. His arms and hands were covered in a black shirt and gloves, and she could see black pants and sneakers peeking out from the bottom of the sheet. </p><p>He raised his arms, and Bilba sucked in a sharp breath, only to let it out in a rush as she saw that he was holding an orange, pumpkin shaped trick-or-treat bucket in his hands. He was short, she realized, his head probably only coming up to her shoulder and that was saying something as <em>she</em> was short. </p><p>A kid, her mind supplied in near hysterical relief. He was just a kid. </p><p>“Sorry,” she said, putting her hand to her chest. Her heart thudded under her fingers, so hard she wondered that it didn’t burst out of her chest. “You scared me.” She frowned. “Are you lost?”</p><p>The ghost said nothing. Instead, he simply lifted the bucket higher. It was empty. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Bilba said again, wondering why he would ask a random stranger on the street for candy. Then again, wasn’t that what Halloween was all about? Getting candy from complete strangers? What was the difference, really, between asking for it from a person in a house or someone on the street? “I don’t have any candy.”</p><p>The ghost tilted his head to the side, as if studying her. There must have been small holes cut in the black holes painted on the sheet, but they weren’t large enough for Bilba to see his eyes. It was disconcerting, his strange silence combined with the inability to really see him. “Are you lost?” she tried again. “Do you need help?” She fumbled in her purse for her phone. “Do you need me to call someone for you?”</p><p>Still, there was no response. With the costume on, Bilba had no idea how old the child was. He was small, but it was hard to judge if he was too small to be out on his own. He didn’t seem scared or upset, so that was a good sign? Probably?</p><p>Her hand brushed against a bit of paper that crinkled under her fingers. She’d completely forgotten that Priscilla had presented her with a candy bar after the movie, calling it her Halloween present. </p><p>“Here.” She pulled the candy bar out and held it out to the young boy. No child should have to go without a single piece of candy on Halloween. “I forgot I had this.”</p><p>The ghost held his bucket up a little higher, and Bilba dropped the candy in. It hit the bottom with a clunk, and the boy pulled it back to look in and study it. After a few seconds, he lowered the bucket, gave her a slight nod and started to walk away. </p><p>“Happy Halloween!” Bilba called after him. She looked down at her purse, making sure she’d zipped it up securely. Maybe she’d follow him, she thought, just to make sure -- she raised her head, and froze. </p><p>The child was gone. </p><p>“What in the world?” She stepped into the street, trying to see if he’d gone up the walkway of a nearby house, or stepped behind a parked car. She saw no sign of him. Perhaps he actually lived in one of the homes, and had simply gone home? It would explain what he’d been doing out by himself in the first place. Hopefully his parents would have leftover candy to fill his bucket with so he wouldn’t get through Halloween with only a single candy bar. </p><p>Even so, a shiver ran down her spine at the odd encounter, and she quickened her pace toward home, good mood gone. </p><p>When she finally made it to her own street, and spotted her home in the distance it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The area was better lit here, and filled once more with children and parents running from house to house. Most of her neighbors loved Halloween and had loads of candy at hand to give out. </p><p>Her parents were no different. They would decorate like it was Christmas, with jack-o-lanterns, spooky lighting and ghosts strung up in the limbs of the tree out front. As she drew near, Bilba expected to see her parents out on the porch, sitting back in their matching, rocking chairs with a giant bowl of candy on the table between them as they waited for each new group of excited children. </p><p>It was oddly dark as she approached, and it took her a few seconds to realize all the lights were off. Even the Halloween lights strung along the eaves and up in the trees were off, casting the entire yard and front of the house in thick darkness. </p><p>Her footsteps slowed as she neared the porch, confusion putting her nerves on edge. She’d talked to her parents before leaving for the movies and they’d told her to be ready to hand out candy when she got home. She’d expected to arrive to find a crowd of children on the porch, her parents front and center in the midst of them. </p><p>Instead the porch was empty, and eerily quiet. The worn wood of the steps creaked beneath her feet, sounding far louder than they should in the quiet. </p><p>Bilba hesitated. Behind her, she could hear the shouts and shrieks of excited children, but it felt like they were in another world, one far removed from where she had gone. </p><p>She’d never realized just how dark the porch could be without the light on. </p><p>She retrieved her phone, and pulled up the flashlight app. Immediately the porch jumped into stark relief, revealing her parents empty chairs, and a full bowl of candy sitting on the low table between them. </p><p>The popcorn she’d had at the movie began to churn in Bilba’s gut. Her gaze shifted toward the front door, and caught on a large box sitting on the doormat. Someone had written on it in black Sharpie and she took a step forward to read it. </p><p><em>Happy Halloween, Whore.</em> </p><p>Around the words were dark splotches, with several resembling finger marks or palm prints. The box itself had been taped shut but, on the sides, she could see more of the dark...whatever it was, that seemed to actually be leaking from whatever was inside the box, saturating the cardboard around it. </p><p>Her eyes went to the writing again, traveling over the small, tight lettering, and jagged edges. The word whore had clearly originally been misspelled as “hor” before the W had been squeezed in after the fact. </p><p>She knew that writing. </p><p>Bilba felt lightheaded. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her throat burned as she struggled to pull in air. </p><p>She couldn’t seem to move. It was as if an invisible wall had sprung up in front of her, blocking her off from the front door, and what lay before it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to move forward, she physically couldn’t. </p><p>A child shrieked in excitement somewhere behind her, and Bilba jumped. Some deep and primal feeling that she couldn’t fully define began to spread through her. She could feel herself starting to sweat, but was ice cold at the same time. Her legs started to tremble and threatened to buckle under her.</p><p>She turned and stumbled back down the steps. Her eyes focused on the house across the street, bright lights shining from the window and porch. The Lundleys lived there. Mr. Lundley was a police officer, and his wife had just been promoted to detective. There’d been a huge celebration with balloons and cake and everything. Bilba had gone with her parents and could easily call to mind her father’s jovial voice and her mother’s bright smile as they’d celebrated Mrs. Lundley’s promotion. </p><p>Tears pricked at the back of her eyes, and the bridge of her nose began to burn. She didn’t know why. What reason was there to cry? Everything was fine. It was just another horrid prank. Another way to get back at her for having the audacity to speak her own mind. </p><p>The sense of dread pressing down on her didn’t lift, and the hollow pit in her stomach showed no signs of filling. </p><p>A group of children were just leaving the Lundley’s front door, passing by her in a rush of bright colors, buckets and bags crashing into their legs and each other as they fled. </p><p>To Bilba, it was as if she were watching them from the other side of a thick pane of glass. Their movements were almost unnaturally slow to her, voices strangely distorted and indiscernible. </p><p>“Bilba? Are you okay, Honey?”</p><p>The world snapped back into focus in a rush of sound and light. Bilba was standing on the porch, Mrs. Lundley in front of her, framed in the warm light of her home. Warmth from the house escaped outside, along with the smell of gingerbread wafting from the direction of the kitchen. </p><p>“My parents,” Bilba managed to blurt out. She pointed back toward her home. “They should be out, but all the lights are out, and there’s a box on the porch….” her voice cracked on the last and the tears began to squeeze out of her eyes against her will. Why was she crying? It was fine. Everything was fine. </p><p><em>Please</em>, let everything be fine. </p><p>“Come on inside, Dear.” Mrs. Lundley put an arm around her shoulders, and then she was inside and sitting on the couch. A body sat next to her that she vaguely recognized as Angeline Lundley. She was fourteen, two years younger than Bilba, and was one of her closest friends. The other girl took her hand, and might have said something, but Bilba couldn’t hear it. </p><p>Her eyes were fixed on the front door, through which Mr. and Mrs. Lundley had vanished. As if transfixed, she got to her feet and began to slowly walk to the door. She didn’t want to go out there, but it was as if she had no choice. As if some unseen force were dragging her. </p><p>She reached the open door in time to see Mr. and Mrs. Lundley crossing the street back toward her and the look on their faces as they met her eyes…</p><p>No....</p><p>No, she didn’t want to hear it. </p><p>NO.</p><p>And as the darkness rushed in, and her world shattered about her, Bilba’s last conscious thought was the inescapable fact that everything that had happened was entirely her fault.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Five Years Later</em> - </p><p>Bilba pasted a smile on her face, and lifted the pastry box over the counter. “Here you go, Ma’am. Enjoy.”</p><p>The woman, a middle-aged blonde who apparently loved bright colors and oversized sunglasses, smiled brightly. “Thanks. My daughter is going to love it.”</p><p>She spun and wound her way through the round white tables and lattice work chairs of the small bakery. </p><p>The second she vanished through the door into the fading light outside, Bilba’s smile vanished. Quietly, she walked around the register and went to the door. She flipped the “open” sign over to “closed” and, with a quick turn of her wrist, locked the door. </p><p>She moved slowly through the room, wiping the tables down and putting the chairs up. The display case had already been emptied so she closed out the register and flipped the lights off. Gloom settled over the room and Bilba suppressed a shiver.</p><p>Clutching the money bag far too tightly, she pushed through the double doors into the back of the bakery. Here, her co-workers were chatting animatedly as they finished cleaning the room and prepping for the very early morning they would have getting baked goods ready for the day. </p><p>Bilba headed to the small office where her boss, Bombur Urson, was scribbling away in a ledger. She placed the money bag on the desk, coins and paper money rustling and clinking inside, and turned to go. </p><p>“Bilba?” Bombur’s quiet voice stopped her mid-step. “A few of us are going to Arkenstone for a bit. Would you like to join us?”</p><p>Bilba put the smile back on, or hoped she did anyway. It had been so long since she’d have a real one that she sometimes forgot what muscles to use. It was impossible for her to tell anymore if what she was doing was smiling, or grimacing.</p><p>“Sorry. I have plans.” The lie slid out easily, She’d said it enough times over the last five years, to co-workers, bosses, neighbors in whatever community she’d been living in. They tended to blur together after a while, a murky mass of faces and voices asking her to take part, join in. Belong. </p><p>As if she deserved any of that. </p><p>As if she could have it even if she wanted it. </p><p>Bombur didn’t seem surprised. “Maybe next time.”</p><p>“Maybe.” Definitely not. Bilba kept the smile on a few more seconds, and then left the office. Back in the kitchen area, none of her colleagues so much as spared her a glance. Over the two weeks that she’d been there they’d already learned that her response to any personal questions would be vague, and her answer to invitations a polite no. Bombur was the only one to continue to ask, longer than most did, but he’d give up eventually. </p><p>They always did. </p><p>She retrieved her coat and purse from her small locker and pushed through the back door into the brisk fall air. The back of the bakery butted up to a wide open plain and, in the distance, she could see tall, snow capped mountains reaching toward the sky. </p><p>Sometimes, she had to fight a desire to just start walking toward them even though, rationally, she knew they were a lot farther away than they looked. </p><p>She headed around the corner of the building, to the small parking lot in front. The area was newer construction, with wide streets and white bricked buildings with beautiful landscaping that blended into the environment. </p><p>Most of the buildings were only a story or two, a sharp contrast to the densely packed skyscrapers that seemed to just spring out of the ground only a few blocks away. The city state of Erebor liked nature as much as anyone, but they had a firm belief in the idea that everything had its place. The city proper for business with high buildings and narrow streets, and the outskirts and other territories for a slower, more comfortable paced life. </p><p>Bright lights flashed in her vision and Bilba looked across the street to the exception to that rule. Arkenstone, a multi-story entertainment complex that housed everything from a food court, to shopping, a movie theater and, she was told, a very exclusive high end nightclub on the top floor. </p><p>One would think the place wouldn’t do as well, located on the edge of the city as it was and well away from the nightlife center, but the exact opposite was true. Arkenstone played to the exhausted employee, straight off a full shift and wanting to relax a little before going home. Arkenstone allowed them to literally stop by on the way, and to be mere minutes away when the full weight of their day finally hit and all they wanted was a soft bed and their most comfortable pajamas. </p><p>Or so claimed the city’s official website anyway. Personally, Bilba imagined the rumor that Arkenstone was personally owned and operated by Erebor’s ruling family was the greatest allure. She doubted the royals had ever set foot in the place, but the fantasy of bumping into one of them was probably a pretty strong selling point. </p><p>The lights flashed again and she frowned at the giant, diamond shaped...disco diamond? Whatever it was called, the thing was massive, the top reaching over the roof of the building and the pointed bottom ending just above the front doors. It reminded her a little of some of the sparkly balls that various places would drop on New Year’s to ring in the next year. The only difference was this one didn’t move, and it was there all year round. </p><p>She’d heard that the color patterns that flashed every hour from the...whatever...were truly spectacular at night, but she had no plans of ever seeing them. </p><p>A shiver ran over her, as if by simply thinking about the dark she might inadvertently summon it. She looked up, a habit now as ingrained as breathing, to see the sun well past its zenith but not yet officially setting. </p><p>It was going down earlier and earlier as the days clicked toward winter. </p><p>She hated it. </p><p>It would soon be dark as soon as she got up, and dark by the time she finished work. The night was not her friend, hadn’t been for five years now. She tried, as best she could, to get shifts that would allow her to be out only during the day but sometimes, and especially in the later months, it was simply not possible. </p><p>She fumbled her key into the lock of her car, opened the door, and slid in. The worn seats had almost no padding and she could feel the sharp edges of springs poking through tears in the fabric covering.  </p><p>The seats hadn’t been ripped when she’d gotten the car. </p><p>She got the key in the ignition, sent up a silent prayer, and turned it. The engine sputtered for a few seconds and  then, mercifully, turned over into an almost smooth rumble. </p><p>Bilba wrapped her hands around the wheel and clenched her fingers until the cracked leather creaked under her fingers. She shut her eyes and let out a long breath. “Okay,” she whispered to herself. “Okay.”</p><p>She opened her eyes. Her heart began to thud in her chest, an action now so familiar to her that it felt strange when she couldn’t feel it. An uncomfortable sensation ran through her gut, and a cold sweat broke out on her brow. </p><p>In a movement so slow it was nearly glacial, she pushed up until her eyes peeked over the bottom edge of her rearview mirror. </p><p>The relief she felt at seeing the backseat empty almost brought tears to her eyes. It was quickly erased by the near constant low grade anxiety forever buzzing just under her skin but, for an instant, the relief was nice. It made her feel almost normal. </p><p>Or at least helped her get back a tiny remembrance of what normal had once felt like. </p><p>She backed out of her parking spot, and caught sight of her co-workers and boss on their way to Arkenstone. Bombur gave her a friendly wave and Bilba sent a hesitant one back. It didn’t occur to her until after she’d put her hand down that she’d completely forgotten to fake a smile. </p><p>She pulled into the exit and flipped her signal on, preparing to head toward the city. She’d rented a house this time around, on the very edge of the city where her view out one window was a skyscraper and peaceful suburbia out the other. </p><p>She usually went for apartments, but after what had happened the last time…</p><p>She shuddered, and suddenly the house was the last place she wanted to be. The thought of being trapped inside those four walls, in silence, waiting...</p><p>Before she could talk herself out of it, she flipped her blinker to signal the opposite direction, looked both ways and then pulled out onto the street. She didn’t know where she was going, just that she was going.</p><p>As she got further away from the city, the smatterings of business and strip malls gave way to homes, but not like the simple, tract like homes that lay just outside the city. No, these were the wealthy folk who lived in towering mansions with sloping, manicured lawns, and curving driveways. </p><p>Many of them worked in the city’s palace, built into an actual mountain that served as the border between Erebor and its closest neighbor. Bilba had caught glimpses of it as she’d traveled through the city a time or two, but had never bothered to get close enough to see its entirety. There were tours apparently that people could take through the gardens and some of the ground floors but she doubted she’d have a chance to go on any of them. </p><p>She wouldn’t be here long enough. </p><p>The fancy homes began to peter out as she drove further, and then suddenly she was past them and the land opened up to a...a park?</p><p>On both sides of the road were rolling carpets of carefully mowed grass, and plotted out bushes. A wide, rock lined walking path meandered through, bordered on one side by the open spaces and the other by densely packed trees. </p><p>An empty parking lot came into view and Bilba pulled into it, parked, and shut off the engine. Silence set in and, for several minutes, she didn’t move. Finally, she clicked off her seatbelt, opened the door and stepped out. </p><p>The air was cool but still, and the light scent of pine hung in the air. Bilba crossed her arms, hunched her shoulders and headed up into the grassy area. </p><p>Now what? </p><p>She’d had no plan other than not going to the rental house, and now that she’d...arrived, she had no idea what to do. She had no book or anything else with her, and it was too late to consider using the walking trail for anything more than a very short walk. </p><p>She idly wandered over to the trail, and was surprised at how beautiful it was. It was wide enough for several people to walk side by side, lined in white rock and filled with what looked like crushed granite. She stepped on it, and felt the satisfying crunch of the rock under her shoes. </p><p>A peace like she hadn’t felt in years settled over her. The ground on the far side of the trail, leading into the forest, sloped up and she went to sit on the retaining wall holding the earth back from collapsing onto the trail. </p><p>The wall was made of white stone and stood about what was probably waist high to an average sized person. Bilba had to brace her hands on the ledge and push up to sit on it, leaving her feet dangling well above the dirt path. </p><p>She planted her hands on either side of her, closed her eyes and let out a breath. </p><p>The sputter of a car engine broke the silence. </p><p>Bilba’s eyes snapped open, and her heart leapt into her throat. </p><p>A truck was driving slowly down the road that ran through the park. In the front cab, Bilba spotted a middle-aged man with dark hair and sunglasses. </p><p>Please keep driving, she thought. Please keep driving. </p><p>The truck turned into the same entrance she’d used and pulled up next to her car. As the man clambered out, Bilba instinctively scrambled up until she was standing on the low wall. </p><p>It was fine, she told herself. He was just there to enjoy the day, like she was. It just so...happened that he’d shown up minutes after her...in a very isolated spot....where he’d chosen to park next to her in an otherwise empty lot…</p><p>Yavanna, how could she be so stupid?</p><p>“Hey!” the man called out to her, raising a hand in a half wave. “What’s your name?”</p><p>“Sarah,” Bilba lied. She desperately wanted to get back in her car and leave, but he’d moved so he was standing in front of it. She’d have to walk past him, and she wasn’t about to do that.</p><p>“Nice to meet you, Sarah.” The man sauntered forward. Something about his eyes, about the way he moved, reminded her of a snake slithering across the grass, or of a panther stalking its prey.</p><p>She’d gotten very good at recognizing both over the last five years. </p><p>She backed up, off the wall and onto the ground where it sloped up behind her, toward the trees and forest behind her. She hoped it was a forest anyway. If it were nothing but a small copse of trees…</p><p>“Hey, now,” the man said, coming to a stop on the grassy area before the path. “Where are you going?”</p><p>“I’m looking for my dog,” Bilba blurted. “He ran away.” Maybe, maybe if he thought she had a pet, or something, he’d leave her alone. Cold raced through her, and she could feel her heart thumping against her ribs. Adrenaline surged in her bloodstream, and pushed her to either fight, or take flight. </p><p>The man grinned, a predatory look that reminded her of a shark circling. So many animals contained within the skin of one man, and all of them predators. “I’ll help you look. What’s his name?”</p><p>He took another step forward. Bilba’s breath caught in her throat and she turned to scramble up the hill, desperate to put more distance between her and him. The ground sloped up so sharply that it was all she could do to keep her feet. She was forced almost to her hands and knees, clawing at dirt and grass as she pulled herself up the hill. </p><p>“Ah, come on now,” the man said behind her, sounding bored. “Don’t be like that. I just want to be friends.”</p><p>Bilba grabbed onto a tree root rising from the earth, and used it to drag herself up. The motion got her to a more level section of ground at the top of the slope. </p><p>Behind her, the man laughed. “Hope you find your dog. I’ll wait here until you get back.”</p><p>Bilba didn’t answer. Instead she plunged into the trees, and put on speed in case he changed his mind and decided to come after her. </p><p>With every step she took she mentally kicked herself. What had she been thinking? Why had she come out here? She knew better. Didn’t she have enough to deal with without--</p><p>She never got the chance to finish the thought. It was darker inside the trees, with the canopy overhead blocking out much of the sunlight and leaving everything shrouded in shadow. </p><p>Much darker, and she was distracted. So much so that she never even noticed when the ground suddenly sloped down again, or at least she didn’t notice until she’d already stepped one foot too far. </p><p>Suddenly, there was nothing but open air beneath her. She barely had a chance to gasp before she was falling. </p><p>She hit the ground hard, and then she was rolling downhill. Rocks, branches, and debris sliced and stabbed through her clothing, sending hot pricks of pain racing through her. Bilba threw her hands over her head, trying to protect herself. She frantically hoped there wasn’t a drop off at the bottom, or a tree branch just waiting for her to break a few ribs against it. </p><p>She hit something, hard, and, just like that, her forward motion stopped dead. </p><p>For several long moments, she stayed exactly as she was, on her stomach, face pressed into the dirt, trying to catch her breath. Her body trembled in the aftermath of the shock it had taken, and her breathing came in harsh, ragged gasps. She hurt all over, especially her right ankle which burned as if she’d managed to scrape all the skin off, but she didn’t think she’d been seriously injured. </p><p>She put her hand out, hoping to push herself up onto her knees. Her hair had come loose from its ponytail and fell around her face like a fan, obscuring her vision. Her right hand flailed out, reaching for whatever had stopped her fall in the hopes it could serve as a support to help her regain her footing. </p><p>Her hand encountered fur. </p><p>Bilba stopped moving. </p><p>She stopped breathing. </p><p>She was pretty sure her heart stopped beating in her chest. </p><p>Under her hand, the fur rose and fell with the steadiness of breathing which meant that, whatever she’d landed against, was definitely not some dead animal carcass left by….she didn’t want to know what. </p><p>Please be a deer, she thought. A really nice deer who was perhaps raised by humans, and had saved her in the spirit of human/animal friendship. </p><p>Please. </p><p>Please.</p><p><em>Please</em>, be a deer. </p><p>Slowly she turned her head, not a lot, just enough to look out of the corner of her eye. Get a glimpse through the curtain of her own hair. </p><p>Just enough to see --</p><p>It wasn’t a deer.</p><p>It was a wolf.</p><p>The biggest she’d ever seen. </p><p>And it was staring right back at her. </p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As a child, Bilba’s favorite game had been a fantasy RPG where she’d spent her time exploring a massive world filled with all manner of amazing creatures and beautiful landscapes. </p><p>It had also been filled with wolves. Not normal ones, but massive creatures known as Dire wolves. She’d used to complain endlessly about them, especially in the early parts of the game when her character was low level with poor weapons and armor. </p><p>Her ire with them had not been improved when her father, who adored random trivia, informed her that the creatures were based on an actual, extinct wolf species that had once roamed the earth. Closer in size to a lion than any wolf currently in existence, the animals would have been apex predators on their own, let alone in a pack. </p><p>The wolf looking at her right now reminded her of those old drawings and descriptions, except she was pretty sure he was <em> bigger </em>. </p><p>He was lounging in front of a tree with his back legs vanishing under a large bush. His fur, thicker and shaggier than a normal wolf’s, was a golden brown, darkest along his back and lightning to near white along his legs and sides. His eyes were a brilliant amber that almost seemed to glow with their own light, and studied her with what felt like an unusual level of intelligence. </p><p>Bilba really hoped it was the sort of intelligence that suggested <em> not </em>eating the girl who’d broken up his majestic lounging by using him to break her fall. The tree behind him would have hurt had she hit it, but probably not as much as being eaten by an Eldritch god would. </p><p>The animal was strangely calm, which Bilba took as a good sign. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed frozen in place, but it was long enough that her heart rate slowed and her breathing evened out. Whether this was because her nerves had genuinely settled or she’d moved past sheer terror and into catatonia was anyone’s guess.</p><p>She started to give what she hoped was a reassuring smile only to cut it off as she realized that baring her teeth at a wolf might not be seen in the positive light she intended. </p><p>Actually, now that she thought about it, how long had she been making direct eye contact with him? Wasn’t direct eye contact with a predator a VERY BAD THING?</p><p>She dropped her eyes, only to find them naturally locked onto his paws. His very enormous paws, with curved claws wider than her fingers and probably twice as long. Bilba swallowed, or tried to past the enormous rock suddenly lodged in her throat. </p><p>There was literally nothing she could do. Move or don’t move, slow or fast, in the end it would all depend on whether or not the wolf chose to let her live. </p><p>“Okay,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She risked a quick glance and saw the wolf’s ears perk up. “Sorry for rolling into you. I’m going to try to scoot away now, okay? Please don’t eat me.”</p><p>Her voice dropped to nearly inaudible on the last few words. Be a nice wolf, she thought desperately. A nice wolf like -- oh, crap, she couldn’t think of any nice wolves in media. What did that mean? Even bears had the Care Bears or Yogi or a whole host of others. She could think of friendly snakes, lions and even a shark or two, but not a single friendly wolf. </p><p>That was such a bad, <em> bad </em>sign. </p><p>The wolf caught her eyes and then, in what seemed an oddly deliberate motion, turned his head to where his feet vanished under the bush. He shifted and Bilba heard the distinct rattle of some metal object along with the clink of a chain. </p><p>The wolf’s eyes turned back to focus on her, steadily. </p><p>Trying to avoid any sudden movements, Bilba walked her hands back until she could ease herself into a crouched position. The wolf didn’t seem to mind, so she slowly braced her hands behind her and eased her body into a seated position. Her body protested the action, but nothing felt broken or seriously injured, simply bruised and sore. </p><p>Her new position put her near the wolf’s hind legs. The wolf caught her attention and then deliberately repeated its earlier action, a slow, deliberate look toward its hind legs followed by a shift in movement and the rattle of metal and chains. </p><p>Bilba nodded shakily and scooted back a few feet closer to the bush. An uncontrollable tremor started to run over her, and her stomach was in knots but, overall, she still felt strangely calm. Perhaps she’d finally snapped, and gone insane. </p><p>She leaned over and brushed back some of the branches of the bush. Silver glinted off the jagged teeth of a small trap locked tightly around one of the wolf’s paws. A thick chain led off the trap to a metal stake set deep into a rock jutting out from the roots of the tree. </p><p>Even in the shadows under the bush, she could see how deep the teeth had dug into his foot. Blood matted the fur, and coated the ground underneath. From the pattern, it appeared he’d spent some time fighting to pull himself free by brute force. </p><p>“Ouch,” she murmured, before mentally kicking herself at the inane comment. Now that she knew what to look for, she could see the wolf’s breathing was fast, sides heaving in a near pant as though he’d run a marathon, or was in extreme pain.  </p><p>Bilba shivered as her mind conjured just what it must feel like to have those metal teeth ripping through her foot. If she wanted, she could probably leave. The chain was short. If she gathered herself and lunged away from him, it was likely she’d take herself out of his range. She could get up and...only have the one threat to deal with instead of two. </p><p>She could do that, and leave him here to suffer...or she could help and risk him killing her as soon as he was free. </p><p>As if reading her mind, the wolf let out a low whine and laid his head on his front paws, eyes fixed on her. </p><p>Bilba sighed. “Fine, you can put the puppy eyes away.” She leaned in to look closer at the trap. “I really hope I don’t regret this,” she mumbled to herself. She had enough regrets to last her a lifetime. </p><p>At least if helping <em> did </em>end up being a mistake, it’d be a very short lived one. </p><p>The thought was not reassuring. </p><p>She spotted the release lever. She’d have to push it down, forcing the teeth farther into the wolf’s paw, in order to release it. “This is going to hurt.”</p><p>He gave another whine and then, to her surprise, thumped his tail on the ground. Bilba frowned, could he be someone’s lost pet? It would certainly explain his behavior. </p><p>She refocused on the trap, and a strange exhilaration ran through her, slicing through the apathy and fog that had shrouded her the last five years. The thought of helping another living being, of <em> mattering </em>to another living being, if even for just a moment…</p><p>It made her feel alive again. A being that existed in the world, instead of a shadow merely watching it pass her by. </p><p>It was growing darker, and the gloom gathered under the bush was growing nearly too thick to see through. Bilba got her phone out and thumbed on the flashlight app, bringing the trap back into sharp relief. </p><p>“Here goes nothing.” At the very least, if the wolf killed her, she’d die with the satisfaction of knowing just how truly pissed Lotho would be that she’d finally escaped him. </p><p>Thinking of Lotho dashed some of her exhilaration and the gray pall began to settle over her once again. Bilba grimaced and, desperate to get her mind off it, braced her phone against a few branches of the bush and grabbed the trap. She took a deep breath, got her balance settled and then squeezed on the trap. </p><p>She didn’t immediately die, so that was a good sign. Hopefully. </p><p>The wolf made a low, groaning noise and she clenched her teeth in sympathy. “Sorry.”</p><p>The teeth of the trap sank lower into the wolf’s paw, blood bubbling up from the jagged wound. In order to release, the lever needed to ratchet further than she had it so, with a mumbled apology, she rose onto her knees and leaned forward to get her full weight behind it. </p><p>The wolf groaned again and Bilba shivered at the thought of how much pain she must be causing the animal. </p><p>The lever slipped into its final position and, with a sharp click, the trapped popped open. Bilba pried it off the wolf’s paw, and he drew his legs in to lick at the wounded appendage. He showed no interest in harming her, and Bilba sighed and slumped in relief.  </p><p>“Hey Girlie! Where’d you get off to?”</p><p>Bilba’s heart leapt into her throat and she sucked in a sharp breath. She scrambled for her phone and shut off the flashlight. Darkness fell about her and her eyes widened. She hadn’t been paying attention to how long she’d been there, or how fast the sun was setting. There was still a little light left overhead, past the tree canopy but, underneath, it was fast approaching full dark.</p><p>“Come on, now,” the man from the parking lot called. He sounded closer. He must have gotten tired of waiting and come after her. “You can’t stay in there forever. Come on out.”</p><p>Beside her, the wolf gathered itself and lumbered up onto its feel. If Bilba had thought it was enormous lying down, it was nothing compared to him when he was standing. He was like a freaking <em> mountain, </em>rising over her. It elicited an instinctive, primal desire to close her eyes, and curl into a fetal position. </p><p>“You’re starting to piss me off, girl! Get out here, now!” The voice was even closer, and it wasn’t dark enough to fully hide her if he should happen to look down the incline. She pulled her legs to her chest and gripped her phone in her hands. </p><p>She really wanted to go home, even if home was hundreds of miles away and five years in the past. </p><p>The wolf limped past her. Bilba watched as he scrambled up the slope and vanished, leaving her alone. The temperature seemed to drop, and the darkness grew heavier. Overhead, she could hear crashing in the undergrowth and she held her breath, desperately praying the man wouldn’t look down and see her. </p><p>“Damn it, Bitch,” she heard him say, “where the hell--”</p><p>His voice cut off in a sudden yelp and Bilba flinched in surprise. </p><p>A low, rumbling sound reached her and she struggled to identify it. Something in her subconsciousness seemed to understand what it was and, again, that primal urge ran through her. The same desire that, as a child, would have her diving under the covers to hide from the thunderstorm raging outside. </p><p>Not that hiding under her covers did any good. </p><p>Hiding at all had never done her any good. </p><p>The sound came again and her mind finally registered what it was. </p><p>Growling. Deeper and fuller than anything she’d ever heard, a deep, vibrating thrum on a frequency so low it was almost more felt than heard. </p><p>The wolf. </p><p>The man gave an almost inhuman scream, and then she heard thrashing heading back toward the parking lot. The wolf snarled, a sound that froze her blood despite knowing it wasn’t directed at her, and new thrashing started as it apparently gave chase. </p><p>The distant noise of a car engine started, followed quickly by squealing tires as a truck fled the parking lot. </p><p>Bilba shuddered. She was cold, in pain, and nothing stood before her now but a return to her life, or what passed for it. For a brief second she’d felt normal again, like she’d <em> belonged </em>somewhere, but the feeling was gone now and there was no getting it back. </p><p>She started to get up, but paused as the burning in her ankle registered. She remembered feeling it earlier, but hadn’t been in a position to do anything about it. She tabbed her flashlight app back on and pulled her sock down to check her ankle. </p><p>The light from her phone fell on her ankle, and lit on a small, glowing mark just above the bone. Specifically, the linked, geometric shapes that had appeared when she’d turned eighteen. The ones that had been dark until this very moment when they’d begun to glow a bright, golden color. </p><p>Her ankle wasn’t burning. </p><p>Her soulmark was. </p><p>Her <em> activated </em>soulmark. </p><p> </p><p>And the only person she’d met since the burning had started was the creep from the parking lot. </p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Behold! An update! :D</p><p>Happy New Year to everyone! I hope this year is going to go amazing for us all! Sorry updates have been so slow and sporadic. 2020 was, well, 2020, but I'm hoping to get into the swing of things now! Little Swan Lost will be updated next, followed by She walks in Shadow, To Chase the Rising Sun and Light In Her Darkness. :)</p><p>Also, a big shoutout to SpecialAgentSnark and StrictlyNoFrills who are both writing amazing Halloween stories of their own! You can check them out here!</p><p>SpecialAgentSnark: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27297127/chapters/66693424</p><p>StrictlyNoFrills: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27252430/chapters/66576853</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bilba had never seen a soulmark before meeting Lotho. </p><p>It wasn’t so much that they were rare, though they were, or that they could appear anywhere on the body, which they could. </p><p>It was that they were so incredibly <em> private </em>.</p><p>Her mother would complain about having to use scarves to hide the one on her neck, while her father would gently tease her about the ease of having his mark on the sole of his foot. </p><p>Bilba had never known what her parents' marks were, let alone seen them. She’d never seen <em> any </em>soulmark, until that day when Lotho had pulled the cuff off his arm to show her the small raven on the underside of his wrist.  </p><p>She should have been horrified. </p><p>Instead she’d felt flattered, and very grown up. There she was, a freshman in her first year of high school and a senior was not only paying attention to her but treating her like an adult. Like she was more mature and special than her peers. </p><p>She’d <em> felt </em>more mature and special than her peers. </p><p>From that first moment. When she’d looked up from the lunch her mom packed her to see an attractive, blond haired, blue eyed upperclassman in a letterman jacket grinning at her from across the room. </p><p>She’d enjoyed the stunned looks from her friends, the envy of other girls, and how grand she’d felt on his arm. She’d believed Lotho when he insisted theirs was a fairytale romance and that, someday, when she got her soulmark it would immediately activate in the presence of his. </p><p>There had been warning signs, giant flaming red flags even but she’d been young, and thought herself in love so she’d either ignored them, missed them or simply explained them away.</p><p>The friends that tried to warn her were simply jealous.</p><p>He was simply awkward, and insecure. </p><p>None of it mattered. </p><p>He’d been Prince Charming and she’d been his princess. </p><p>She’d thought it had been fate that day they’d met, that he’d lifted his eyes to see her across the lunchroom and it was as if a bolt of lightning had struck him. </p><p>Love at first sight. </p><p>It wouldn’t be until years later that she finally understood. </p><p>That day in the cafeteria, when he’d first laid eyes on her, he hadn’t been looking at the love of his life. </p><p>He’d been looking at prey. </p><p>***</p><p>Bilba couldn’t say how long she sat and stared at the glowing mark on her ankle. By the time her senses returned, it was full dark and the only thing she could see were those symbols, shining against the black. </p><p>There was a heavy weight on her foot and she let out a sharp gasp when she slid it back and felt the object move. A low whine caught her ear and then a wet nose lightly touched her foot. </p><p>“You came back,” Bilba said in surprise. The temperature, already low, had dropped farther and she shivered as it settled into her bones. She tugged her pant leg and sock back in place, obscuring the mark on her ankle and letting her ignore it in turn, for the time being anyway. </p><p>She scrambled to her feet and wrapped her arms around herself. The dark pressed in relentlessly. She couldn’t see the trees around her, the slope she’d fallen down or her own hand in front of her face. </p><p>The wolf brushed against her and she jumped a second time. She put a hand out, tentatively, and felt the dome of his head push up into her palm. He had to be someone’s pet. Someone’s extremely large, intimidating pet that could probably eat her in a few bites if he wanted.</p><p>“Don’t leave,” she whispered. She kept one hand on his head, and lifted the other in front of her to try and avoid walking face first into any trees or other obstacles. She shuffled a few steps, only to stumble to a stop as the wolf pressed against her legs, blocking her way. “I can’t see,” Bilba told him. “Is this the wrong way?” </p><p>She felt a gentle tug on the hem of her shirt, pulling her to the right. Bilba followed obediently, and her foot hit the base of the slope of the hill she’d fallen down. She dragged herself to the top, and stood still in uncertainty. The tree canopy was so thick it blocked the light of the moon, but she’d hoped some sliver might make it through from the parking lot. </p><p>The wolf bumped against her again and moved forward a few steps. Her hand fell off his head and onto his back, and the fact it could do so comfortably reminded her of just how massive he was. </p><p>He backed up and then swirled around her. He ended up behind her where he leaned against her legs, nudging her forward. A therapy dog -- wolf, Bilba thought. Or a rescue animal. Highly trained regardless, and exotic, which could only mean one thing. </p><p>Someone, somewhere, was looking for him. </p><p>Of course someone was, she told herself. Don’t be an idiot. Even if someone wasn’t, what? She was going to keep him? The bill for feeding him must be enormous, and then there was the fact that she had no hope of controlling him. Sure, he was being kind now, but what happened if he got upset or turned out to have some sort of aggression?</p><p>And, of course, all that was before taking Lotho into account. He’d never allow her to have a dog, or any animal, and adopting one knowing full well what would happen to it once Lotho found out...</p><p>She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. She’d gone from being terrified of the wolf to talking herself out of keeping him. </p><p>He leaned against her legs harder, insisting she move and, with a sigh, she complied. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re bossy?”</p><p>His only response was to put his head back under her hand and lead her forward. A few minutes later he blocked her yet again and she belatedly remembered the hill she’d scrambled up in her haste to get away from the creep. </p><p>A.ka. her apparent soulmate. </p><p>Her eyes burned and she clenched her jaw. She took a step, and her heart jolted into her throat as her foot slid out from under her. Without thinking she threw her arms out, and ended up in an awkward half-seated position with her arms wrapped around the wolf’s neck. </p><p>He braced himself and then, to her surprise, moved down the hill. She scrambled to keep her feet mostly under her as, slowly and inelegantly, they made their way to the footpath. </p><p>By that time her eyes had finally adjusted to the faint light being cast by the sliver of moon overhead. Her car sat where she’d left it and she hurried to it. Once there it occurred to her that the wolf might just be too large to fit. Assuming she could even convince him to get in. </p><p>He’d followed her, and was sitting patiently by the trunk. Bilba chewed on her lower lip. She opened the passenger door, lowered the seat forward, and then opened the back door. </p><p>“Do you want to come home with me?” she asked, tentatively. “I can try to help your paw, and tomorrow we’ll look for your owner.”</p><p>The wolf tilted his head, and limped forward. He jumped in the back and, somehow, managed to squeeze himself in. He was so large that the sight of him in the car was nearly comical, but Bilba couldn’t find the energy to laugh. </p><p>She shut the doors and went to slide into the driver’s side. The wolf had somehow turned himself around so he could lay on the back of the folded down passenger seat, his head dominating the front well. Bilba turned the key in the ignition, and tensed until the engine finally rumbled to life. “Okay,” she said, letting out a breath. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”</p><p>The wolf’s eyes drifted toward her and he let out a breath that had his entire body sagging. He had to be in pain from his paw. Bilba doubted any vets were open this late, but made a mental note to set her alarm earlier so she could get him in as soon as one opened. </p><p>The drive to the house was done in silence. The wolf seemed to fall asleep, or at the very least was dozing, and Bilba was doing her best to not think about anything at all. </p><p>She turned onto the street and the rental house came into view, a simple one story building with an average sized yard. Just the latest in a long string of homes and apartments she’d lived in over the years, never more than a month or two at a time, usually, before she was forced to flee again. Light blazed through the slats of the blinds covering the front window, and mounted lights on the garage and near the front door flooded the exterior in a way that probably annoyed her neighbors. </p><p>Bilba parked in the driveway, headlights illuminating the garage. Parking on the driveway wasn’t particularly safe but, then again, neither was parking in the garage. Her stomach twisted, and she flexed her fingers on the steering wheel. She hated having to go back to where she lived at night. <em> Hated </em>it. </p><p>“Okay,” she whispered to herself, trying to calm the way her heart raced in her chest. “Okay.”</p><p>She shut the car off, got out and hurried to the passenger side to let the wolf out. He got out gracefully, if a tad unsteadily, and stood beside her, injured paw held in the air. There was undoubtedly blood smeared all over her backseat from the wound, but there was no way she was dealing with it right then. She’d have to take it to get detailed at some point, and then deal with the laughter she’d get at having such a hunk of junk deep cleaned. </p><p>Bilba hesitated and then crouched a few inches to bring herself to the wolf’s eye level. “If we go inside and there’s someone there--” Her voice wavered and she stopped speaking for a second to try and collect herself. “--If there’s someone there--” she tried again, “I want you to turn around and run, okay? Just leave.”</p><p>She couldn’t explain why she was speaking to him like he could understand her, or why he tilted his head and studied her with oddly intelligent eyes that almost had her believing he could. </p><p>She straightened, and headed to the front door, holding her keys between her knuckles as a weapon she knew wouldn’t do any good against Lotho if he’d already found her again. </p><p>She was shaking so hard it was a struggle to get the key in the lock. Her stomach roiled, and her breathing had grown fast, and so shallow it almost felt like she was suffocating. The wolf pressed against her side with a low whine, and she tried to force a shaky smile. “Remember what I told you.”</p><p>She pushed the door open, and heard the beep of the alarm system put in by the owners. They required her to set it when she left, and some small part of her liked to think it made a difference.</p><p>Before she could go turn it off, the wolf pushed past her and confidently strode into the house. Bilba lifted a hand to stop him, only to realize she’d have better luck stopping a speeding truck. Instead she hurriedly closed and locked the door and went to shut off the alarm. </p><p>She’d barely gotten it done when the wolf was back, sitting quietly at her feet. Past him she could see spots of blood leading down the hall, and mentally bade her security deposit farewell. She’d never gotten to keep a security deposit before, and had been mildly hopeful for this one. </p><p>“Are you sure?” she asked him, before mentally kicking herself for the inane question. Not only could he not answer, but he was a dog...wolf...creature. Even if he hadn’t seen anyone, he’d have smelled them had they been there. She hoped anyway. With all the abilities Lotho had displayed over the years she wouldn’t put it past him to be indetectable to animals. </p><p>She led the wolf to the kitchen, and the tile floors, and set her purse on the counter. The furniture style of the homeowners was radically different from hers, and included a squat, gray kitchen table that was one of the ugliest she’d ever seen but there was little she could do about it. She owned no furniture of her own. All of her belongings fit into a few duffle bags, compact enough to be able to throw in her car and get out at a moment’s notice. At least this place had furniture, her style or not. She’d stayed in a few apartments where she’d slept on the floor and ate with plastic utensils she’d collected from fast food restaurants. </p><p>She retrieved her first aid kit and sat down on the floor near the wolf’s paw. “This is going to suck. Don’t bite my head off.” She frowned at him. “I mean that literally.”</p><p>The wolf carefully settled down on the tile and waited patiently, without flinching, as she cleaned and bandaged his paw. He looked tired, and his breathing was still labored. The sight sent a tendril of anxiety through her, and Bilba made a mental note to be at the vet before the doors opened in hopes of finding someone there early. </p><p>Once she was finished, she put the kit away, cleaned up the blood in the kitchen and made a half-hearted effort to clean the stains in the carpet. She’d gotten pretty good at cleaning up blood over the years. </p><p>“I’m going to go take a shower,” she told the wolf as she threw the soiled paper towels in the trash. He was lounging on the floor, eyes idly tracking her. “I don’t have any food, but I’ll get you something in the morning.” She rarely had food in the house, and then it was usually just a frozen dinner or two. Her appetite wasn’t great on her best days, and it was sometimes hard to choke down food even when it was. </p><p>She wandered into the oversized master bedroom, and went to retrieve her nightshirt from the closet. It had two doors on a sliding track which meant, no matter what she did, one half was always shut. She’d have taken the doors off if she could, but the homeowners had said no when she’d asked.</p><p>She never used the side that was closed and never, ever, made the mistake of opening it. </p><p>It wasn’t until she was in the shower, near scalding water running over her head and down her back, that everything hit. The first sob escaped against her will, fighting its way out of her throat and leaving it raw and aching in its wake. </p><p>Bilba wrapped an arm around her ribs, and shoved her fist into her mouth just as the second sob forced its way out. That one seemed to unleash something inside her, and she sagged into the corner of the shower, head pressed against the tile as a torrent of emotion sought to escape. </p><p>She’d thought her soulmate would be <em> nice </em>.</p><p>It was a selfish thought. No one deserved to be dragged into the nightmare that was her life, and least of all some innocent who, through no fault of their own, had the misfortune to be her soulmate. </p><p>If she were lucky, and she never was, the creep would vanish back under whatever rock he’d crawled out from. Lotho would never find him, and she’d just...go on. </p><p>If she <em> wasn’t </em>lucky, then the creep would track her down and she’d have to put up with him until Lotho found her. He’d kill the guy and then...then what? </p><p>A full body shudder ran over her and Bilba pressed into the corner as if she could physically meld into the wall. Her crying had gone past the point of control, to where it was making her feel ill but she couldn’t seem to stop it. </p><p>Lotho had been so <em> angry </em> when she’d manifested her soulmark and it hadn’t reacted to his. <em> So </em> angry, at least at first. Later, when she’d next seen him, he’d changed the narrative just as he always did when it didn’t fit the way he wanted. He’d insisted that theirs was a love story for the ages and so of <em> course </em>the universe would challenge them, throw obstacles in their way that they would have to overcome. It was the stuff of all great legends, the story of every hero. </p><p>Obstacles. That was how he saw their soulmates, <em> her </em>soulmate. </p><p><em> Final </em>obstacles. The last great hurdle to overcome before...what? </p><p>He’d never told her, and she’d been far too terrified of the answer to ask. </p><p>She sank down, turning as she did until she was huddled in the corner of her shower, arms wrapped around her legs and head resting on her knees. The hot water had long since turned cold, beating down on her like so many shards of ice biting into her skin. Her stomach clenched and nausea boiled in her throat. </p><p>She was scared. </p><p>She was <em> always </em>scared but, this...this…</p><p>There was no hiding an activated soulmark. The next time he found her, Lotho would see it, and she had no idea how he would react. What he would do. What he would do to <em> her </em>. </p><p>It was suddenly hard to breathe. Her breath caught in her throat and she raised her head and leaned back against the shower wall, trying to gasp in enough oxygen to fill her lungs. Her throat hurt from crying, and she was freezing but she couldn’t find the strength to get up and shut the water off. </p><p>She was just so <em> tired </em>. </p><p>So tired, and so desperately foolish. </p><p>She’d thought he’d be <em> nice </em>. </p><p>She knew her soulmate, whoever he was, couldn’t help her. No one could. There was no hope for her, hadn’t been in a very long time but still, even so, as foolish and ridiculous as it had been she’d always held onto the faint hope...belief maybe that somewhere out there existed someone, some part of her in a sense that was happy, and living a normal life with family and friends and everything she could never have. </p><p> </p><p>She just...thought he’d be nice.</p><p> </p><p>A low whine came from the other side of the closed bathroom door, followed by the sound of a paw scratching at the wood. The light coming from her bedroom was blocked, and she heard the sound of snuffling. </p><p>Something inside her seemed to calm, just a bit. Her lungs opened back up and she shut her eyes and allowed her body to sag against the wall. </p><p>The wolf. She’d forgotten about the wolf. He needed her. She had to take him to the vet. She had to get him home. </p><p>At least one of them should get to go home. </p><p>She struggled to her feet. Her body felt unnaturally heavy, and she just felt...old. So very old, as if she’d lived three or four times the number of years she actually had. She managed to shut the water off, and stepped out of the shower. Her breathing stil came in short hitches and she was shivering, partly from cold and partly because she was always shivering. </p><p>She dried off haphazardly and dragged on her nightshirt. It was old, and ratty, the pattern on it long since faded until it was almost gone. It had been a gift from her mother, the last one before that Halloween night when everything had fallen apart. The fabric fell into place around her knees, and Bilba grimaced as the water from her wet hair began to soak through the back. </p><p>Without warning, a sudden, intense sensation of <em> dread </em> fell over her. Dread, and the utter conviction that if she opened the door some <em> thing </em> or some <em> one </em>awful would be waiting for her on the other side. </p><p>A whimper escaped from between her teeth, clenched so tight her jaw hurt. Almost as if in answer, the wolf whined from the other side of the door and the wood rattled as he scratched at it. Bilba inhaled sharply, and then stumbled forward and yanked the door open. She fell to her knees hard enough to send pain cracking through them, and flung her arms around the wolf’s neck. </p><p>If there was any doubt that he was someone’s lost therapy dog, it was dispelled by the simple fact that he didn’t immediately bite her head off. Instead, he held very still even as Bilba buried her face in his neck and burst into a second round of tears. </p><p>She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, but it was long enough to completely cry herself into utter exhaustion. Even then she stayed where she was, sagged against him so that he was taking almost all of her weight. </p><p>She untangled herself finally, but only to put her hands on either side of his face and press her forehead to his. “Sorry,” she whispered, closing her eyes as fatigue weighed on her. “You’re probably wondering what you did to deserve getting stuck with the crazy lady, huh?”</p><p>To her surprise he pulled back, and then gave her a short lick on the cheek. His tail began to thump on the floor and he leaned forward to nuzzle the side of her face. Bilba gave a short laugh, and impulsively hugged him again. </p><p>She considered going back into the bathroom to dry her hair and braid it, but couldn’t find the motivation. Instead she got to her feet, and managed the few feet to where the dresser stood beside the door. She closed it and then, very slowly and painfully, shoved the dresser in front to block it closed. </p><p>It wouldn’t do much more than slow Lotho down if he arrived, but it might give her enough time to get out through the window. Unless he came in through the window…</p><p>She managed a faint smile for the wolf and then, leaving the light on, shuffled over to the bed where she climbed in and curled up against the headboard. The mattress was bare but for the sheet on it, she didn’t dare use blankets that would slow her escape if needed. </p><p>The wolf limped slowly to the side of the bed and carefully lowered himself to the floor. Bilba studied him, chewing on her lower lip absently, and then awkwardly patted the mattress. “Come on.” The wolf raised his head and cocked it to the side. Bilba patted her bed again, but he didn’t move. Bilba leaned forward a little, and clasped her hands together. “Please?”</p><p>The wolf let out a low huff and lumbered to his feet. He hesitated, and then carefully clambered up onto the bed. The entire thing shook with his weight and the mattress dipped so much on his side that it sent Bilba shifting toward him as if she were sliding down a hill. The bed was a California King, but the wolf still barely fit on it even with his body curved instead of lying straight on one side. </p><p>Bilba settled down and curled into his side. Fatigue pressed down on her and she stifled a yawn, before allowing her eyes to close. Sleeping was the best part of her day as it allowed her to forget the hellscape her life had become, for a little while. </p><p>At least, it did when she didn’t end up caught in a nightmare but she had a feeling that, with the wolf beside her, that wouldn’t happen. </p><p>At least not this night. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> There was no warning. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Bilba had barely opened the door to her tiny apartment when arms grabbed her and yanked her inside. The door slammed shut and she was shoved against it, a heavy body blocking her against the thin wood.   </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She caught the impression of blond hair and blue eyes set in an attractive face before he leaned in to try and kiss her. Bilba turned her head and fought the urge to vomit. She put her hands on his chest and tried to push him away, but it was like trying to move granite. Granite so cold it seemed to leach into her fingers and spread into her veins like poison. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Aw, come on, Sweetheart,” Lotho whined. He tried to kiss her again, but Bilba turned her head a second time. His mouth grazed her chin, wet and sloppy, and the way her stomach wrenched nearly made her gag. “How long are you going to stay mad at me?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> For the first time, Bilba looked him in the eye. She was shaking, and could already feel tears tracking down her face. She hated crying in front of him, hated him knowing how much he terrified her. “Lotho,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “You killed my parents.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His face twisted into something dark and hate filled. He slammed his fists into the wall on either side of her. “Damn it, Bilba! When are you going to understand I did it for you?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Bilba screamed. Her legs buckled and she tried to scramble past him, but he grabbed her arms and held her in place. Plaster dust from the holes he’d just punched in the wall rose about her and she started to cough as it made its way into her lungs. She was sobbing by this point, and her shaking only grew more violent as he drew her into an unwilling embrace. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> After a few seconds, he released her to grab her face between his hands. Bilba froze, knowing he could easily crush her skull by accident. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Sorry,” he whispered frantically. “I’m sorry. I just – I love you so much, you know? And you just won’t see it and it drives me crazy sometimes!” His fingers dug into her temples and he leaned in until his face was barely an inch from hers. “You understand that, right? That everything I do is for you? Don’t you? Your parents had to go, Bilba. They were in the way.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lies. Her parents hadn’t even known about him. Bilba had been too young to date, so she’d kept it secret. Lotho had been angry that she’d broken up with him, and angrier still that she’d gone to the movies with Priscilla and a few of her guy friends that night. Those two guys had disappeared shortly after, never to be seen again, and Priscilla… </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Bilba knew she should agree to placate him, but she just…couldn’t. It was all lies. He always did this. He’d do some awful, horrid, selfish thing and then just…rewrite it. Suddenly, he was the hero and she went from being his victim to his princess, locked away in a tower awaiting rescue. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lotho grinned at her. Once, when she’d been young and blind, the look had made her heart leap in her chest. It made her believe all the lies he’d spew at her. How she’d misunderstood something he’d said, or what she’d thought had happened never had. She was supposedly insecure, worried that she didn’t deserve to be by the side of someone as amazing as him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I have a surprise for you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Bilba flinched. “That’s okay,” she managed to get out. “I don’t need anything.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You always say that.” He jerked her away from the door, opened it, and then half dragged her out. The landing outside was narrow, just a strip of weather worn wood with a rickety, waist high railing that overlooked the darkened parking lot below. The only light came from the guttering bulbs of ancient light poles, the only sound was the rush of distant cars zipping along the highway that ran behind the building. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lotho pulled her toward the stairs. The grip he had on her arm was far too tight. She’d have a bruise the next day, one more to add to the growing list of injuries she’d sustained at the hands of Lotho’s brutal and unpredictable mood swings. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> They reached the parking lot and Lotho steered her to a tiny, nondescript red sedan parked under the sole, dying light pole in the parking lot. There was a sticker on it for a college she didn’t recognize, and the license plate had a rhinestone encrusted frame surrounding it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lotho pulled a set of keys from his pocket and hit a button. Bilba heard the quiet beep and saw the trunk pop up an inch or two. A deep sense of foreboding sank over her. Her breathing quickened, and she dug in her heels, resisting Lotho’s pull. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He wrapped his free arm around her waist, lifted her feet off the ground and carried her forward. “Now, now, don’t be like that. I went to so much trouble to surprise you, the least you could do is show a little gratitude.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He set her down at the back of the car and reached for the trunk lid. As he did, the sleeve of his shirt slid back and Bilba caught a brief sight of the soulmark on his wrist, a small raven with its wings outstretched in flight. It looked…different, a light gray instead of deep black, almost as if it were…fading. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lotho smiled brilliantly, teeth flashing white in the dark, and pulled the trunk lid up, exposing what was inside. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Bilba looked in, and began to scream.   </em>
</p><p>***</p><p>Bilba sat up sharply, breath coming in hard, throat burning gasps. She shut her eyes, clenched her hands into fists and gritted her teeth as acid soured her mouth.</p><p>So much for not having nightmares. Though, to be fair, that hadn’t exactly been a <em> nightmare,</em> had it?</p><p>Nightmares weren’t real.</p><p>She opened her eyes and glanced to her side, hoping she hadn’t disturbed the wolf. </p><p>In the next moment, her body was reacting without conscious thought. She shrieked, and then was scrabbling backwards, right off the edge of the bed. She hit the ground hard, pain spiking through her tailbone. She barely registered it as she continued to backpedal, until she hit the wall and there was nowhere left to go.</p><p>Her entire chest seemed to <em> clench </em>, and it suddenly felt as if she were trying to suck air in through a straw. A horrific, grating sound came from her own throat as she fought to breathe. She was having a heart attack, she thought frantically. She was having a heart attack and was going to die right here and now, and wouldn’t that just serve Lotho right?</p><p>She wrapped her arms around her torso, closed her eyes, and sagged forward on her knees until she could press her forehead into the floor. Breathe, she told herself desperately, just breathe. It’s not a heart attack, it’s a panic attack. You’re having a panic attack. Just relax. Focus. She tried to call up happy memories, five years and another lifetime in the past. Memories of laughing with her parents, spending time with Priscilla, simply being able to live in a world without fear.</p><p>It took ages, or felt like it, before her heart stopped trying to beat its way out of her chest, and her throat relaxed enough to let her breathe. She opened her eyes and focused on the floor, counting the individual carpet fibers until she felt back in control.</p><p>“Okay,” she whispered. “You have to get up.” She let out a breath, closed her eyes again, and then pushed up so that she was on her knees with her arms still wrapped around herself. “Please be a mistake,” she whispered. “Please be a mistake.”</p><p>She held her breath, opened her eyes, and promptly let out a strangled whimper.</p><p>There was a man in her bed.</p><p>There was no sign of the wolf, and the door was still barred shut by her dresser so the wolf couldn’t have gotten out and the man…how had he gotten in? Through the window? But then why hadn’t the wolf reacted, and where was it now?</p><p>“Who are you?” Bilba managed to get out weakly, digging her fingers into her forearms. Way to go, she immediately chided herself. Very brave. He must be quaking in his shoes. She turned hopefully toward the bathroom, but it was empty. No wolf hanging out and waiting for her to notice him.</p><p>The man hadn’t answered her, but also hadn’t moved. Not when she’d screamed and fallen out of bed, and not through the entirety of her panic attack. She could see his chest rising and falling from where she knelt, so he was alive at least. He was lying on his back, head turned away from her. She could see he had slicked back, dark blond hair and was dressed in jeans, and a denim, button down shirt.</p><p>He was also big. Like, really big, his body taking up most of the half of the bed he was lying on.</p><p>He still wasn’t reacting. Was he just the world’s deepest sleeper who happened to like breaking into women’s homes to fall asleep next to them in bed? She frowned at the door, still barred shut, and then the window over her head which also appeared to be firmly shut and untampered with.</p><p>There was a suspicion forming in her mind, hazy and nebulous and she wasn’t anywhere near ready to deal with it so she proceeded to ignore it entirely.</p><p>She chewed on her lower lip, trying to decide what to do. Calling the police was out of the question. They’d want to make a report, and it’d go into the system. Given the circumstances and general oddity of it, it might even warrant a story on the local news. Lotho already had the ability to track her wherever she went, somehow. The last thing she wanted was to shine a veritable beacon for him.</p><p>So, no police, which left her two options. Stay right where she was in the desperate hope that the situation would somehow, miraculously resolve itself or…figure it out.</p><p>She steeled herself, let out a breath in a feeble attempt to settle her still jangling nerves, and forced herself to start shuffling forward on her knees. She reached the edge of the bed, and froze, hands clasped in front of her in silent prayer.</p><p>This close, she could now see things she hadn’t noticed from back against the wall. His breathing was labored, chest raising and falling faster than normal. Bilba hesitated and then, slowly, crawled onto the mattress. She curled her legs under her and sank down on them, staying so close to the edge that her feet nearly hung off it.</p><p>He never moved.</p><p>Bilba shook her head. She should be running. Move the dresser and get out. Go to her safe space and wait in the hopes she’d come back to find him gone.</p><p>She <em> should </em>be doing that.</p><p>Should…but…he hadn’t hurt her, and he’d had plenty of chances. And, more than that…</p><p>She was thinking that…that perhaps…</p><p>He moaned suddenly, and she tensed. He turned his head toward her, and she could see he was young, maybe a few years older than her, and that his expression was twisted in an unconscious grimace of pain. There was a sheen of sweat coating his face and his hair and his shirt had damp spots.</p><p>Bilba scooted forward, close enough that her knees touched his side. Heat radiated off him, burning through his shirt and spreading over her skin.</p><p>“Are you all right?” Bilba whispered. She raised a hand, hesitated, and then carefully put it on his chest in a vague attempt to shake him awake. The suspicion in her mind grew and, as strange as it might seem, it wasn’t as insane as it might have been five years ago.</p><p>After what she’d seen with Lotho, after what she <em> knew </em> about him, it made sense, didn’t it? Lotho was…different. He hadn’t always been that way, but he’d gone away one summer and when he came back…when he came back, he was <em> different. </em>Unnaturally strong, freezing to the touch, and she could swear his heart no longer beat in his chest.</p><p>No one had ever believed her, but she <em> knew </em>it. Knew he wasn’t human, and if that was true then didn’t it make sense there might be others? And others of different…kinds or whatever it was? Beings who were unbelievably cold…and perhaps beings who could change their form?</p><p>Maybe…change from a human into a wolf, and then back again?</p><p>“Is that it?” she asked him softly. “Are you a…”</p><p>Werewolf, her mind supplied. A massive werewolf that had come to her aid, showed her nothing but kindness and support, and now lay sick and suffering in her bed? Granted, it hadn’t been a full moon the night before but perhaps that part of the lore was simply wrong? It certainly explained where the wolf had gone, and where a strange man had suddenly come from.</p><p>Even the fact that the wolf had been feeling ill and now this man was clearly unwell.</p><p>It was like that thing she’d read in a Sherlock Holmes book once. “<em> When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. </em>”</p><p>It wasn’t possible that the wolf had somehow moved, and then replaced, the dresser to get out, or that it had opened the window and closed it behind him. It also wasn’t possible that the man in her bed had somehow done the same without waking her up. It <em> was </em>possible that he’d somehow, someway, gotten through the window but that didn’t answer any of the other questions.</p><p>Which left only one possibility.</p><p>She’d come home with a werewolf who, at some point during the night, had changed back from a wolf into a man.</p><p>An extremely sick man.</p><p>Bilba chewed on her lower lip. Her eyes darted toward his shoes and she carefully moved to the foot of the bed. It took her a few seconds to orient the wolf to the man but, once she had, she slid off the edge of the bed and reached for his foot. He was wearing combat boots with a zipper and laces and it took a few minutes to get everything undone and then to, carefully, ease the boot off.</p><p>A blood caked sock came into view, along with a stench of infection that nearly made her gag. Bilba grimaced and then gingerly worked it the rest of the way off, revealing the bandages she’d put on the wolf the night before, now poorly fit on the man’s foot, and equally soaked with blood.</p><p>Werewolf, it was. </p><p>Bilba retrieved a pair of scissors from the bathroom, snipped through the bandages and eased them off his foot. The sight of his mangled flesh had her shutting her eyes and swaying as dizziness assailed her. She didn’t know why it seemed so much worse on a human versus a wolf, but there it was.</p><p>She swallowed a rush of bile, grimaced at the acidic taste, and then went to the bathroom to get a damp towel to clean the blood off. As she cleaned his foot, she was surprised to see the damage wasn’t as extensive as she’d thought. Or…at least it wasn’t anymore. There were areas on his foot that were scabbed over as if from an old wound, and others that looked simply like a scar but all of it was clearly part of the same injury from the trap.</p><p>Bilba paused, studying it in confusion. She’d read stories as a child about werewolves. They always had things like super strength, and super healing, but then they’d also always turned under the full moon and were virtually feral. They didn’t chase away creeps and let scared women cry on them.</p><p>Bilba’s face flushed as she suddenly remembered everything she’d said and done the night before. She’d thought she was talking to a well-trained wolf, but now it was apparent she’d pretty much bared her soul to a strange man…who she’d then pleaded to get in bed with her.</p><p>“I’m surprised you <em> didn’t </em> go through the window after all that,” she mumbled. “You must think I’m completely out of my mind.</p><p>And, who knew, maybe she was. It was hard to tell anymore.</p><p>“So what?” she asked out loud, not expecting an answer. “Do you have healing powers or not? Are they broken?”</p><p>She glanced up at him, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized his eyes were open and staring blankly at the ceiling. She put the towel down and shuffled her way up to stand next to him.</p><p>His eyes, half-lidded and dazed, rolled toward her. They were silver, Bilba noted. Had they been silver the night before?</p><p>The image of the silver trap that had been on his leg suddenly flashed through her mind, along with another bit of werewolf lore she’d read.</p><p>Werewolves and silver were a deadly match.</p><p>“Is that it?” she asked him. “Was that trap silver? Did it get in your wound?”</p><p>He moaned, his eyes closing before opening again. They focused on her, hazy, and his brow furrowed. “Kili?” he mumbled. “Kili?”</p><p>Bilba shook her head. “Who’s Kili?” Oddly, the name sounded vaguely familiar. Like something she’d heard in passing and absentmindedly stored away in her subconscious. “What’s your name?”</p><p>It was too late. His eyes had rolled back in his head and then he was unconscious again.</p><p>Bilba studied him for a few seconds, hoping that a miracle would happen, and he’d wake up and just tell her who he was. When he didn’t, Bilba steeled herself and gingerly reached for his pants pockets. “I’m just…. going to look for a wallet? All right?”</p><p>There was nothing in his front pockets so, with a soft apology, she quickly checked the back ones before looking in the pocket on his shirt and then his other boot in the hope he might have shoved an ID down there.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>“Okay,” Bilba said with a sigh. “That’s…unhelpful.”</p><p>She crossed her arms and studied him in concern. She had no idea what to do. She couldn’t take him to a vet, and if she took him to the hospital…what? Tell them he was a werewolf, and he might be suffering from silver poisoning?</p><p>With no plan in mind, she returned to his foot and finished cleaning off the blood and infection. Blood had begun to ooze out of the areas where the wound was still open, so she pushed the dresser away from the door and went to retrieve the bandages from where she’d left them in the kitchen.</p><p>The clock from the microwave caught her attention. She’d only been asleep for two hours. Two hours since she’d met the wolf at the park and...</p><p>Her thoughts slid to a stop and the bandages dropped from her suddenly numb fingers.</p><p>She’d met the wolf in the park.</p><p>The same park she’d met the creep who she thought was her soulmate…</p><p>Because he was the only other person there…</p><p>Except, he <em> hadn’t </em>been.</p><p>There hadn’t been one other person there…there’d been <em> two </em>.</p><p>The creep…and the guy now in her bed.</p><p>Did werewolves even <em> have </em>soulmates?</p><p>Lost in thought, Bilba retrieved the bandages and returned to her room. She stopped in the doorway and studied the man where he lay on her bed. There was no sign of a soulmark anywhere she could see, which meant it either wasn’t there, or it was covered by his clothes.</p><p>Bilba went and began to rebandage his foot.</p><p>Did she <em> want </em>him to be her soulmate?</p><p>She shouldn’t.</p><p>He didn’t deserve that.</p><p>As she tied off the bandage, he moaned again, eyes fluttering open briefly before falling shut again. He needed help, and more than what she could give him.</p><p>He must have people out there. Family, friends, a pack or whatever werewolves called it. People who could help him.</p><p>She just needed to find them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The man was moaning again, and shifting restlessly on the bed. His skin was scorching to the touch, so Bilba grabbed a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with water and ice cubes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she started to carry it, and a handful of rags, back to the bedroom she was startled by the sound of a large thump. She hurried down the hall, only to stumble to a stop at the sight of the man on his knees next to the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilba quickly set the bowl down on the dresser, and then hesitated. The man was swaying, a glazed look in his half-open eyes. They fixed sluggishly on her, and he frowned. “Who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His sway suddenly became more severe and, without thinking, Bilba darted forward and dropped to her knees in front of him. She planted her hands on his chest, trying to keep him up. It sort of felt like trying to stop a boulder rolling down a hill. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You met me at the park,” she got out as she struggled to keep him from falling, and taking her with him. If he landed on top of her there’d be no getting him off, and a very real risk of her being suffocated by his sheer weight on top of her. “Remember? I got lost? You helped me find my way out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He managed to straighten himself, taking the pressure off her, though she could still feel his weight shifting against her hands as she continued to try and keep him upright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes sharpened slightly. “Trap,” he muttered, gaze roving around the room. “There was a trap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right.” Bilba pushed on him, trying to encourage him to move back. “Come on. You shouldn’t be out of bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I --” he put his hands on her arms as if to move her out of the way but even in his fevered state his grip was gentle. “I need to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet.” Bilba struggled to push him back, toward the bed. “You’re sick. You need to lie down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes narrowed but, to her surprise, he obediently struggled shakily to his feet. He tried to put pressure on his injured foot, only to give a pained grunt and stagger off balance. Bilba jumped to her feet and threw her arms around his waist. The action managed to shift his balance of gravity just enough to send him falling back into a seated position on the edge of the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hot,” he grumbled. His fingers fumbled at the buttons on his shirt. “Why is it so hot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you’re sick,” Bilba repeated patiently. She hesitated, and then lightly brushed his fingers aside to undo the buttons for him. She’d taken a first aid class once that had said the neck and under the arms were some of the best places to apply ice water to try and get someone’s body temperature down. It’d be easier to reach both places if he had his shirt off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, if she were being honest, she could confess to the selfish desire to see if he had a soulmark anywhere on his chest or back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slid his shirt off his shoulders, and helped him pull it off his arms. He was extremely fit, to the point she wondered if the exercise he got as a wolf translated into his human form. She assumed it must to some extent, given how the injury he’d sustained as a wolf had carried over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were no marks on his arms, chest or back and she tried not to feel disappointed. It simply meant that either he didn’t have a soulmark or...her eyes drifted toward his jeans, and then jerked away instantly, heat flooding her face. Nope, not going there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabbed his legs and tried to lift them, hoping to encourage him to lie down. A brief look of amusement crossed his features, before he allowed her to help him turn and stretch back out on the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilba retrieved the bowl and rags and soaked them in the ice water. “This is going to suck,” she warned him, before she started laying out the rags on his neck, and chest. He let out a hiss of displeasure, but didn’t resist as she swiped cold water under his arms and down along his face, cleaning off the sweat and grime that had built up on his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The water must have relaxed him because, by the time she was done, he had drifted off again. He wasn’t moaning anymore in his sleep, or moving around, and Bilba hoped both were signs he’d gotten better and not worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She put the bowl and rags down, retrieved her phone and sat next to him on the bed, legs curled under her. “All right,” she told his unconscious figure. “Let’s see if we can find your family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had no idea where to start so, with no other ideas in mind, she pulled up a search engine on the internet, typed in “Kili, Erebor” and hit search. Perhaps, if she were very lucky, the name would be rare enough that --</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her thoughts trailed off as the search results popped up. There were no “Kili’s” that she could see in any of the search results, but there were a number of similar sounding names. Maybe Kili was a nickname?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above the results, the search engine had pinned a banner to the top, just under the search bar. It featured a photo of a young, dark haired man in what was clearly a high quality, professional photograph. He was gazing off stoically into the distance, and wore some sort of military style jacket with a variety of medal looking things, and a purple sash crossing from one shoulder to the waist on the other side of his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kilian Durin,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the caption next to his name read. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince of Erebor and third in line to the throne. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good for you,” Bilba muttered. Clearly, he wasn’t --</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her thoughts stumbled to a stop as she caught sight of an image gallery under the banner, showcasing photographs of the young prince gathered from around the internet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quite a few of the photos featured him with other people, family members if she had to guess based on the clear familiarity. In particular, a number of the pictures featured a young, blond man...one who looked very much like --</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilba shook her head. Don’t be ridiculous. It was because the photos were so small. She clicked on one to bring it up. Once it was full size she had no doubt that --</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” she breathed, her mind screeching to a halt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked at the man sleeping beside her, and then back to the picture as if it would somehow change. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked healthier of course in the picture, and was smiling, one arm thrown around the prince, Kilian...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kili</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart started to beat harder and her breathing grew short. There was no caption for the picture and, suddenly desperate to slow the inevitable, Bilba went back to the search bar and entered “Kili, Erebor, blond man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please just be a fan,” she murmured. “Or a servant, or...something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hit enter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A new banner popped up. The picture was undeniably the man beside her, dressed similarly to Kilian with his hair neatly styled and a stoic, look of calm determination on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Filian Durin, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the caption next to his name read. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince of Erebor and second in line to the throne.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilba dropped her phone, and shut her eyes. She felt like she was suffocating and was rapidly approaching the threshold of her second panic attack in less than an hour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “No, no, no, no.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This couldn’t be happening. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>last </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing she needed to be tied up with was something connected to royalty. Royalty led to media, which led to attention, which led to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lotho</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her stomach clenched and she shoved a fist in her mouth as what little food she’d eaten that day threatened to come back up. At the rate she was going it’d only be a matter of time before her ulcers came back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She opened her eyes and felt a flash of anger as she looked at the man… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Filian </span>
  </em>
  <span>where he lay next to her. What had he been thinking running around by himself? Where had his security been? Was it just assumed that, because he was a werewolf, he could take care of himself?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clearly, that had been a mistake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She picked up her phone, nearly dropping it in the process as her hand was shaking so badly. What was she supposed to do? Call the palace operator and tell them she had one of their princes unconscious in her bed and they might want to send someone to collect him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well. Especially with him being </span>
  <em>
    <span>unconscious</span>
  </em>
  <span> and all. Suddenly unable to stay seated, she jumped to her feet and started pacing at the foot of the bed. Every few seconds, she’d cast a look at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>prince </span>
  </em>
  <span>with the faint hope he’d just...go away, or she’d wake up and find out it had all been a bad dream.</span>
</p><p><span>Had they noticed he was gone yet? Had they started looking for him? She hadn’t been planning</span> <span>to end up with a freaking </span><em><span>prince </span></em><span>in her custody so no doubt her fingerprints or DNA or </span><em><span>whatever </span></em><span>was all over the place. </span></p><p>
  <span>She went to the window and moved the curtain aside just an inch, convinced she’d see the street filled with flashing lights, helicopters, and news vans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>News vans. She didn’t need news vans. Missing princes and manhunts and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>news</span>
  </em>
  <span>. All of it spelled attention and that was the exact opposite of what she needed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now completely overwhelmed, she pressed her fists against the wall next to the window and leaned forward until her forehead rested against the plaster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The image of the trap from the woods drifted back into her mind. What were the odds, she wondered, that a silver trap just so happened to randomly be out in the woods, in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>park</span>
  </em>
  <span>, where a werewolf could conveniently run into it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilba let out a low groan, already knowing the answer. The odds were slim, which meant Filian had probably been targeted, which meant there was someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>else </span>
  </em>
  <span>she had to worry about out there. She thought back to the creep, but dismissed it. If he’d been hunting for a werewolf he wouldn’t have been so easily scared off when an injured one showed up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sagged against the wall and slid down it, turning as she did so she ended up seated with her back to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’d you have to be a prince?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Filian’s only response was a groan and pained shift on her bed. Bilba sighed, and then struggled to her feet. Feeling marginally calmer, probably because she’d moved past panic into emotional shutdown, she forced herself to get up and go to the kitchen for a glass of water before retrieving ibuprofen from her bathroom cabinet. As she pulled the bottle off the shelf, she paused as reality set in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She would have to move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no way she could stay. Even if she could manage to, somehow, handle all this without publicity just the fact that she’d come into contact with a member of the royal family at all was dangerous. It was a level of attention she couldn’t afford to have. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She returned to the bedroom and stood at the foot of the bed, studying him. There was no way he was her soulmate, no way she had a werewolf </span>
  <em>
    <span>prince </span>
  </em>
  <span>somehow fated to be her other half. She’d always pictured her soulmate as some nice, normal guy who worked as a teacher perhaps, or maybe had a job in a bakery. Not...this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed, and went to set the pills and glass down next to the bed. She sat on the edge of the mattress and grabbed Filian’s arm. “Come on, I need you to sit up.” When he didn’t respond, she yanked harder on his arm, which did absolutely nothing. “Filian! I need you to get up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still nothing. Bilba scowled. The image of the other prince ran through her mind and her brow furrowed in thought. Kilian. His name was Kilian, but Filian had been calling him by what appeared to be a nickname, Kili. So, if that were the case, and Kilian was Kili then did that mean Filian might have a nickname of his own? If so, would it be...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fili.” She put a hand gently on his chest, and shook him lightly. “Fili, I need you to sit up for me, all right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes opened, bleary and unfocused, but he responded when she pulled on his arm and struggled into a half seated, half slumped position against the headboard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Bilba retrieved the glass and medication, and then paused. “Can you even take ibuprofen? I know cats can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a cat,” Fili grumbled. He reached for the bottle. Bilba took it as a good sign, shook out several tablets and gave them to him, along with the glass of water. She had to support it, and a lot still wound up on him and in the bed, but he managed to get enough down to swallow the pills. Hopefully, they would help with the pain and also the inflammation and fever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took the glass back and helped him as best she could to lie down again. “I’m going to go try to find Kili. I need you to stay here while I’m gone, all right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were barely open, but they focused on her as she spoke, and he made a motion that might have been a head nod before drifting off again so Bilba took it as a good sign. Even so, she found a piece of paper and wrote “Gone to look for Kili, STAY HERE,” in big, block letters on it. She taped it to the door and then closed it so that if he got up the first thing he’d see would be the note. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only after she’d done it that she remembered she was still wearing her nightshirt, and her hair was in such a state that one would think she’d stuck a fork in a light socket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So much for her dramatic exit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilba opened the door again and went to get changed. Once she’d gotten dressed, she managed to yank a comb through her hair and plaited it back into a thick braid. All the while, she did her best to not think about the whole throwing her arms around a complete stranger and crying all over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And to think she’d considered the possibility he was her soulmate. As if someone like her would have a werewolf prince for a soulmate. No, it made far more sense that it had been the creep from the parking lot after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her shoulders slumped in defeat and she sagged forward on the counter to bury her face in her arms. She was just so tired, all time, and with every passing day it only got worse. No one could be scared like she was all the time, could </span>
  <em>
    <span>run</span>
  </em>
  <span> like she did all the time. It had been five years, how much longer could she go on?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as she thought it, she knew the answer. Now that her soulmark had activated, it would only be until Lotho found her again. Found her, and the creep from the parking lot she supposed. After that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was afraid to find out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A low groan from the bedroom drew her attention. Bilba sighed and forced herself upright. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, dark bags and gaunt features, and grimaced. It was probably for the best that he wasn’t her soulmate. No doubt he’d take one good look at her and run the other way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She left the room for the second time, grabbed her keys and purse and then went to stand in front of her closed front door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” she told herself. “You can do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let out a breath in a futile attempt to calm her nerves and then, before she could think about it too much, she set her alarm and hurried out the front door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She broke out in a cold sweat the second she was outside, with the dark closing in tight around her, but she forced her trembling fingers to lock the door and then nearly ran to her car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once inside, she went through the same, terrifying, routine of checking the backseat she’d done at the bakery before turning her car on and flipping on the headlights. Acid churned in the back of her throat and her grip on the steering wheel was so tight she could hear the bones in her fingers creaking in protest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He needs your help,” she chanted, as every fiber in her screamed to run back inside and hide inside the false security of her bedroom until the sun rose. “He needs your help. You have to help him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She put the car in reverse and carefully backed down the driveway and out onto the street. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she had a vague idea of where to start. A place rumored to host the royals from time to time. A place where she might at least be able to get an idea of who she could trust or not trust. It was a far fetched plan with about a thousand different holes in it but, for the moment, it was all she had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a false determination she really wished she could believe in, she turned her wheel and angled her car toward the only place outside the palace she </span>
  <em>
    <span>might </span>
  </em>
  <span>be able to track down help for the injured prince in her bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arkenstone. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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